ONE UPMANSHIP
by Mad-Friend
Summary: I do not own the rights to Thunderbirds but acknowledge those who do with genuine admiration. This is my first Thunderbirds story and I hope it brings laughter as it is intended too. If I have amused you then I am happy.


ONE UPMANSHIP.

Chapter 1.

Jeff had booked tickets for the theatre for Penelope; who was spending a week's holiday, and the family as a rare treat from the island. He and Penny were in the process of delivering last minute instructions.

"Very good m'lady it will be carried out hat once," Parker said with his usual air, to Penelope's request to ensure the Theatre had the champagne chilling at just the correct temperature, ready for the intermission.

"Oh, and Kyrano, you know where to reach us if there's an em….."

"Relax Dad," Scott interrupted, flicking a surreptitious look at his watch, for the fifth time, he knows."

Kyrano smiled and nodded. "Please do not worry Mr. Tracy; you can leave everything to me. Now please go and enjoy yourselves. I can handle things here."

"I know, I know. Sorry Kyrano; it's just habit, I guess."

"At this rate, the curtain will have come down for the last scene", mumbled Gordon, digging his hands further into his pockets.

"Come on, son. Even you have to have a night off sometimes," his mother urged gently in Jeff's ear, while rolling her eyes at Penny.

"Hmm, it's just that….well I have this feeling. And I know when I get it, it usually means trouble. Perhaps I'd just better check in with Alan again, just to make sure."

"You did that less than half an hour ago," his mother sighed.

"Yes I know, but a lot can happen in 30 minutes," he said edgily, as Penny and Tin-Tin exchanged knowing glances. Wasn't it supposed to be the woman's prerogative to keep everyone waiting?

"Aw Dad…" Virgil was about to chip in.

"Alright, alright but I'm flying."

Scott opened his mouth, but a warning look from John convinced him they'd never get out of there at this rate.

Jeff grumbled good naturedly all the way to the elevator and was about to add some last minute instruction to Kyrano when his mother tugged him in, and Kyrano was spared any further words.

Several minutes later the sounds of the family jet could be heard as it took of before gradually fading into the distance.

"Whew, hey thought they would never go." Parker let out a sigh of relief, his eyes lighting up as he spotted the whiskey decanter. "Fancy one?"

He was so intent on rooting out a glass and filling it almost to the brim, that he didn't see the gleam in Kyrano's eye. Rifling through the cupboards until he found what he was looking for, Parker turned to the now bland faced man servant. "Get eh light fer this will yer," he said, maintaining his mock posh accent as he waved the expensive Cuban cigar at Kyrano, before biting the end off it, and spitting it into the nearest bin. He again missed the gleam as he drew on the proffered light and threw himself into Jeff's chair and plonked his size 10's noisily onto the desk.

"Eh this is the life," he sighed, puffing on the cigar and taking generous swigs of the fifteen year old malt. "Got heny grub? I'm starvin', an' none of that fancy muck you feeds Mr. Tracy an' 'er ladyship. Hey wants me a steak….a large un, with a plate full of chips and loads er ketchup. Ho, an' yer can throw me in a generous 'elpin' of fried onions? Think yer up to that Ki-ran-ho?"

This time he did see the thinly veiled scowl directed towards him, but felt he must have been mistaken as Kyrano smiled and bowed. '_Must 'ave been a trick of the light,'_ he mused, taking another large swig of the expensive whiskey.

"Oh, an' Ki-ran-ho, we'll 'ave a game o poker hafter that, hassumin' you know 'ow to play?"

Choosing his words carefully Kyrano said, "It would be a pleasure…...to _beat_ you, but unfortunately I'm afraid it will have to wait. I have been entrusted with a task of the utmost importance to complete before Mr. Tracy returns; he has left me the instructions." He carefully drew the envelope from his tunic and made a play of shielding it from Parker, then continued, "If you will excuse me……."

If he knew only one thing about Parker it was his insatiable curiosity, and he mentally crossed his fingers……….

'_Beat me my foot'. _"What 'ave yer got there then Ki-ran-ho?" It worked!

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge that information to you Mr. Parker; it would be in breach of the security regulations we have here. Now if you'll excuse me please…."

As he expected, Parker couldn't resist and followed him to the kitchen. Kyrano made a great play of reading the contents, all the while aware of Parker hobbling about in the background trying to sneak a none too subtle look at the note, but he whipped the sheet of writing paper away, carefully returning it to the envelope then placing it with an air of casual absentmindedness, on the gleaming work surface, certain his bait would be taken.

"I will have to leave your steak and fries in the nuclear-powered oven. You may take them out when it signals, and please do not concern yourself about turning it off afterwards. It is fully automated; it senses when to ……"

"Quite, hey knows 'ow to deal with a blinkin' cooker, but what haybout yourself?"

"Me? Oh, please do not concern yourself, I have eaten," Kyrano replied blandly.

"Hey _know_ that!" Parker sighed in exasperation. "What hey wants to know is what will you be doin'?"

"I am afraid I really cannot divulge that, as I've explained already, this is a confidential matter and is for those on a need to know basis only."

'_That_ _should_ _just_ _about_ _do_ _it_. _If_ _he_ _doesn't_ _bite_ _now,_ _he_ _never_ _will.'_

. Making a great pretence of collecting the ingredients for Parker's meal from the store room, Kyrano waited just long enough to ensure 'Nosey' Parker had sneaked a look at the contents of the envelope before returning, and as if suddenly recalling he'd left it, he picked up the envelope and replaced it back into his tunic.

'_Hook line and sinker.'_ he smiled inwardly.

"If you will excuse me," he said, placing the prepared meal in the oven, "I have very little time to …..Oh, but you would not understand."

He didn't miss the Parker's expression as he took another large swallow of the whiskey. Certain Parker's ego wouldn't take much more, he concluded with, "This is highly skilled work and far beyond the mere tasks you are called upon to do, in your duties as butler….but enough said." Kyrano counted backwards in the silence, waiting for the eruption. 10………9……

"_What_ _do_ _you_ _mean_ _highly_ _skilled_ _work_? What the flippin' 'eck do you think hey does for 'er ladyship? Why her Rolls is all down to me. Hey've seen yer blinkin' instructions and hey'd wager you a month's wages hey'd do a better job, an' show yer 'ow it's supposed to be done into the bargain."

Pretending to be affronted Kyrano pushed home his advantage with, "That is as may be, but this is not a _mere_ car, and I would be failing in my duty to Mr. Tracy if I were to let you do this and you made a mess of it. After all I only have your word for it that you are any good in this department."

"Make a mess of it…… _MERE CAR!_" Parker spluttered with ill concealed rage. "Give me that blinkin' job an' I'll show you who's any good!"

"It will have to be done immediately." Kyrano cautioned, "_If_... you are sure you are up to the work?"

"Hup to it? Hup to it!" Parker spluttered. "Hey'll 'ave you know hey served six months heypprenticeship valetin' cars, en hey'm more than up to the job of cleanin' an' paintin' a flippin' piece of tin! Now, are yer goin' ter let me get on with the job or not?"

Kyrano almost gave the game away as his face creased into a grin. In the nick of time, he realised and turned away, making a great pretence of attending to the oven. Then bringing to bear all his years of practice, and adopting his most dignified bland expression, Kyrano turned to face his adversary. "Put like that how can I refuse, though I believe Mr. Tracy would be most offended if he heard you calling one of his pride and joys "a flippin' piece of tin," he replied, mimicking to a tee Parker's accent. "I'll save this for later for you then, shall I?" He indicated the meal.

"Do as yer please," came the surly retort. "Now where's this gear then? Hey'd best be getting' on with it."

"By all means. You will find some of it by the service elevator for Thunderbird 2 hangar. The rest of it is in Pod 4, along with all the cleaning equipment. There are also seven tins all marked STOCKDUM SCELESTUS. You are to put these in the computerised spraying machine, and when you have finished please leave them on the maintenance and service bench by Thunderbird 4, so Mr. Tracy can do a spot check. Everything else has been _prepared_, but perhaps you would prefer it if I assisted you, just to er…. make sure you do it right."

Parker's vanity played right into Kyrano's hands as he huffily refused and stomped over to where some of the equipment had been placed. "The day hey can't manage a simple job like this is the day hey'll hang up me gemmy and concede Light Fingered Fred is better'n me!" he said, stabbing at the button for the service elevator.

How Kyrano kept a straight face was beyond him. He watched the departing back with the look of a man who held the supreme upper hand.

He maintained that expression when, several hours later, a dishevelled and tired Parker emerged and raided the kitchen fridge, downing the contents of a beer, while at the same time, demanding to be fed.

Kyrano made polite enquiries about the job to which he was informed that the_ 'job'_ was not only done, but was superior to anything Kyrano was capable of, and was, in Parker's opinion the best Mr. Tracy was ever likely to see. And he also didn't see why Kyrano should take all the credit. It wasn't sporting.

Kyrano, who was busy serving him his very late supper, agreed, much to his surprise, and conceded that it was only fair for Parker to have all the 'glory'. Parker could barely wait for the return of Mr. Tracy and the other members of the family so he could show off the superior workmanship he'd carried out that evening. He smiled to himself, stabbing at a forkful of chips and shoving so many of them into his mouth he could barely turn them around, much to Kyrano's amazement, who then watched him cut a generous slice of steak._ 'Surely he isn't going to try and put that in his mouth as well', _but recallinghavingseenParkeryawnonmanyoccasionsKyranoknewitwouldfit

"If you will excuse me, I think I will retire now. There is little point staying up since Mr. Tracy and the family will not be home until the morning. You may place your empty bottles in this bin," he said politely, eyeing up the third beer Parker had just helped himself to, while stifling a grimace as Lady Penelope's manservant belched loudly.

"You're hey right killjoy. Ain't yer goin' ta stay an 'ave that game of poker then?"

Kyrano though eager to have one final victory over the, (as he saw it) boastful brash Englishman, politely, but regrettably declined. He was to eaten up with curiosity to view Parker's handiwork, though he made all the right noises with the promise of a match soon. A wager that was most eagerly accepted.

It was everything Kyrano had hoped for and more. He hoped Jeff would not be too disturbed and regretted in a way that his benefactor had to be drawn into this charade, as he had only the greatest of respect for Jeff. But the pros far outweighed the cons, and it was a chance of one-upmanship he had to take for all the times Parker had done his best to lord it over him, bringing his airs and graces into _his_ domain and wasting no opportunity to take over and "_show him how it should be done"._. The drinks incident during The Mighty Atom came to mind, then the bed making debacle. After that it was the avocado starters, followed by that horrendous incident involving his beloved Bonsais. Then to top it all, the latest in a long line of conflicts, as they had tussled on the runway of Tracy Island, only that morning, over the handling of Lady Penelope's suitcases and hand luggage. But the image of Thunderbird 4 and the response it was likely to bring more than restored his smile. And it wouldn't do Master Gordon any harm either to have a taste of his own medicine, especially after his involvement with the Bonsai incident. Contented, Kyrano made his way to his quarters.

"You are cleared for landing Mr. Tracy." Kyrano instructed at 10-47am the following morning as the family jet came into view.

Jeff acknowledged this and several minutes later he and the rest of the family trooped into the lounge to be greeted by Kyrano, who was given a hug by his daughter, while Parker offered refreshments all round. It was clear from their faces and the conversation buzzing around the room that they'd thoroughly enjoyed their night out on the mainland, a night free from the duties that normally bound them to the island.

Jeff's first question after sipping his drink was to enquire if anything had happened while he was away that he should know about. It was all the opening Parker had been waiting for.

"Beggin' your pardon sir but the job has been carried out as per your hinstructions sir and is awaiting your hinspection. And, if eh might say so, is the best job you're ever likely to see. Beggin' your pardon sir, no slur hintended towards Ki-ran-ho, but he ain't trained to quate the same standard as mayself."

"What the heck are you talking about Parker? What job?"

"Why the maintenance hend respray of Thunderbird 4 that you requested sir."

Gordon's ears pricked up at the mention of his beloved craft and he walked over to join the conversation. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It was hall in your letter sir," Parker said, glancing briefly at the young aquanaut before returning his attention to the head of the family.

"Letter?"

Parker regarded Jeff as if he had a touch of senility, but perhaps he was being unfair and the man was just a little hard of hearing.

"Yes sir, the letter what you wrote Ki-ran-ho with the hinstructions for Thunderbird 4. You, remember sir? You, wanted it carried hout right away. Well, hey am pleased to inform you sir, your instructions have been carried out to the letter."

"May I see this letter?" Jeff asked, his face a mirror of puzzlement, certain the heat had gotten to Parker and the man had flipped.

"What's all that about?" Virgil asked in hushed tones to his elder brothers. Both shrugged, their attention glued on the conversation.

Parker added, "Hey don't rightly have it, sir. But you're welcome to hinspect the Thunderbird if you'd care to, sir." Parker mentally crossed his fingers.

Intrigued to find out what it was all about, Jeff readily agreed. Gordon insisted on leading the way followed by the others, who, having gleaned from the conversation that some unscheduled work had been carried out on Thunderbird 4. Their curiosity aroused, they wanted to see for themselves what had gone on in their absence. Within minutes, Jeff and his sons came face to face with the gleaming and newly sprayed underwater craft. A pin dropping could have been heard in the deafening silence of the pod that housed the smallest of the Thunderbird craft.

How long he stood there, his face a mask of horror, his jaw open, Jeff couldn't have said, but his shock must have been mirrored by Gordon and others as Parker tentatively ventured, "Don't you like it sir? Hey thought you'd 'ave been hover the moon; it's just as you hinstructed."

Scott and John exchanged incredulous look, sure their eyes were playing tricks. While Virgil said in an awed tone, "I'm dreaming right?" the incredulous sound of their parent soon disabused him of that idea.

"What the heck have you done? Where'd you get the harebrained notion I wanted _this_ done?" Jeff gestured, in shock, at the brightly painted craft

"PINK!_ BARBIE PINK!_ " Gordon gasped hoarsely, convinced he was going to need sunglasses from now on, just to look at the craft. "You painted my Thunderbird PINK!"

"Bu…but…." Blustered Parker shaking his head in confusion. "It was what you wanted; you said so yourself, in your letter. You said you hadmired her ladyship's Rolls so much, you'd decided to hincorporate the colour scheme into Thunderbird 4's bodywork."

"You keep referring to this letter you say I wrote. I want to see it, now." Jeff shook his head, casting a wary eye at the machine, hoping he was just having a bad dream and had imagined it. He winced, and quickly looked away.

Watching quietly from the background and sensing things had gone far enough, Kyrano stepped forward and handed his benefactor the envelope. Jeff gave him a questioning look but accepted the proffered envelope. He took the sheet out and scanned the contents. Recognising Kyrano's handwriting, he rapidly put two and two together then favoured his manservant with a look off pure astonishment.

It read: _Kyrano,_

_I have the following task for you and it must be carried out to the letter. As you know, Thunderbird 4 is ready for its body overhaul and respray and, being particularly fond of FAB1, I have decided to adopt Lady Penelope's favourite colour for TB4. Speed is of the essence, and it would be appreciated if you could have TB4 finished before we return. A handsome reward will be yours as a mark of my appreciation. You will find all the necessary equipment to carry out this re-spray in Pod 4. _

_With regards, Jeff._

"Please do not worry Mr. Tracy," Kyrano spoke quietly into his ear when he saw Jeff had finished reading. "The paint is water soluble and has been specially modified to dissolve the minute it makes contact with the water, so no permanent damage will be done. It is also environmentally friendly."

Jeff favoured Kyrano with a bemused look, his shock evaporating, "He must have done something really big to have you plotting a scheme of this magnitude. Pity you couldn't have let me in on it. But then I guess it wouldn't have worked if you had, would it, Kyrano?"

"No, Mr. Tracy, and thankyou for your understanding."

"Let's hope Parker's feeling as generous once he realises."

Within seconds, Gordon, who'd been listening, relaxed as he realised it was only a practical joke that had been perpetrated on his pride and joy, and that no permanent damage had been done. He shook his head in admiration at Kyrano, his face splitting into a grin, while at the same time thinking that if anyone had been going to play such a trick it should have been him, as the practical joker of the family.

John who'd noticed the used tins on the work bench strolled over and picked one up. He scrutinised the writing, and as comprehension dawned, he couldn't suppress the laughter welling up within him. It rocked the still hushed silence as his rich tones echoed round the pod. His eyes danced with merriment as he held aloft the used tin of paint and pointed to the writing emblazoned across the front, translating it in answer to the puzzled looks he was receiving.

"Parker, it appears you've been _had_. STOCKDUM SCELESTUS," John said, with tears of laughter in his eyes, "is a mixture of German and Latin. Translated, it stands for utterly stupid criminal." His laughter mingled with the rest of his family, much to the indignation of the now chastened British butler, who mumbled beneath his breath "Hey ain't never goin' ter live this down."

The End.

Does Parker live this down, or has his pride been provoked to think up a suitable response?

7


End file.
